Blood and Roses
by xxbabewithbrainsxx
Summary: When Rose is accused of murdering her cousin, Dominique, how will former classmate Scorpius Malfoy solve the crime? And what will it take to bring Rose and Scorpius together? Scorose, violence, strong language. Please review! COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Scorpius Malfoy was in a good mood. That was not often the case, but now his boss had ascertained that Scorpius really didn't have any interest in Lily Luna Potter, newly qualified Hit Witch, Harry Potter had begun to treat Scorpius with a little more respect. Besides which, there were many, many things in his life that were _right_ at the moment, and that was definitely something to smile about.

Auror Potter was now handing out more difficult assignments to Scorpius and Adam Nott, who'd been Scorpius' best friend since Hogwarts. The two young men eagerly accepted the assignments, for they had quickly become bored with sorting through mundane cases with no relevance to Dark Magic or anything else remotely interesting.

At the moment, by far the most exciting case (recently transferred to Potter's Auror team at his request) was the one that the _Prophet_ had infamously dubbed as the "Blood and Roses". It was on the front page almost every day as the unknown serial killer continued to murder, leaving behind a trail of dead bodies — seven to count. Scorpius' eyes fell on the moving pictures in today's _Prophet_: they had done an entire double spread feature about the latest murder, and he wondered how the newspaper was getting its information. Considering how little the Auror Department liked to liaise with the media, the depth of the articles made no sense.

It was strange because, really, everyone should have been appalled by the shocking antics of the murderer in question. Instead, they were intrigued by the serial killer and his or her modus operandi. It was unlike anything the Wizarding world had ever encountered before. The victims had been stripped of all their clothes, and a certain amount of their blood was magically extracted from their bodies after being killed. This blood was then arranged in an artistic manner on the victims' backs, in the perfect red swirl of a rose.

The killer's strange, if not morbid signature had prompted many speculative theories as to who this person was. Recalling an article published in the _Quibbler_ just a week ago, Scorpius believed that their most accurate theory so far was the one which said that the perpetrator was most likely a man who had an unhealthy amount of hatred for the victims and used the roses to associate them with —

"Lesbians." Adam's voice brought Scorpius out of his reverie.

"What?" said Scorpius blankly.

Adam clarified, "The _Quibbler_ article said that our guy is scared of female sexuality. And we've been doing some more digging — the victims only have one thing in common: their sexuality."

"Excuse me?"

"Before, we were looking in the wrong places. We thought there was a jealous ex-boyfriend or stalker somewhere, and that was it. That theory might still be our best bet, but the victims actually had ex-_girlfriends_ as well."

"So what?" Scorpius countered.

"So that means whoever murdered them hates dykes."

"Don't say that," Scorpius said automatically. He hated it when minorities were discriminated or stereotyped like that — whether to do with sexuality or religion or blood status, et cetera. His father had taught him from a young age that other people, no matter how different they were from him, should be treated with respect at all times. He just couldn't be friends with them. Or get married to them. Or go out with them. Or, for that matter, have anything to do with them.

But, yes, respect was apparently the key.

"_Someone's_ a bit tetch—" Adam was interrupted by the loud, wailing sound of their alarm.

"Calling all available Aurors at twenty-hundred hours. Emergency in the residence of Matthew and Dominique Wood—" The cool, disembodied voice reeled off an address, but by the mention of Dominique's name, Scorpius was already on his feet and spinning on the spot to Disapparate. With a _crack_, he arrived in the foyer of Dominique's flat and flew up the stairs at full speed.

There were already Aurors standing outside the door with wands outstretched, preparing to go in, but Scorpius could not wait. He had to see if she was all right. Ignoring his colleagues, Scorpius blasted open the door to the maisonette with his wand and ran into the living room as fast as he could, his heart pounding against his ribcage and beads of sweat trickling down his palms onto the cream carpet as he prayed that everything was not as he feared.

_Please, God... she can't be... If you're up there, don't let her be..._

The Aurors had followed him in and were now talking in low voices, but all Scorpius could hear were faint noises, inaudible and insignificant. Seeing that there was nothing in the living room and hearing that the kitchen was clear, he advanced up the stairs, nearly tripping in his haste. At last, he reached what he knew to be Dominique's bedroom...

His eyes came to a solitary wand lying on the floor, pointing at the three bodies strewn on the messy, unmade bed. At the end of the bed closest to Scorpius was a familiar woman. On her pale back was a blood-coloured rose, the wand-drawn bloody strokes contrasting against Dominique Wood's white skin. On the other end of the bed was a man lying dead on his stomach, an intricate rose drawn on his back as well. And lying in between her mother and stepfather, with an identical rose on her tiny back, was Ophélie Wood.

Forgetting all about the people around him, Scorpius fell to his knees in despair, unable to take his eyes off his dead daughter.

**Chapter End Notes:** This is my first mystery story, guys! And my first Next Gen and my first Scorose. So could you review? Please? I'll cry if you don't :)


	2. Let's Get This Straight

**There is strong, unladylike language in this chapter. Please heed the warning.**

Scorpius was in shock. His daughter, dead? It couldn't be. No.

True, he had only found out that Ophélie was his daughter a year ago, and it was just in the last nine months that he had got to know his daughter properly. Regardless, Scorpius' feeling of loss for his daughter, not to mention his hatred towards the killer — whoever he or she was — was immeasurable.

Auror Potter, who had arrived at the scene just minutes after Scorpius did, instructed Adam to take his friend home.

"Take a week off," Potter told Scorpius. "If you need longer, send me an owl. I understand. She's your daughter, after—"

"No." The word was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Yet Scorpius knew full well that he could not rest until he found his daughter's killer.

"That's conflict of—" Potter couldn't complete his sentence.

"My arse," Scorpius spat. "Conflict of interest, my fucking arse. This is a heavy conflict of interest on your part too. If I'm off the case, so are you. Unless you're a hypocrite — and I've never taken you for a hypocrite before."

Silence. Faint words of warning, inaudible to Scorpius' pounding ears, were coming from behind him, presumably from Adam.

"He has a point," Auror Longbottom put in. "Dominique and Ophélie... they're your..." Longbottom continued speaking, but Scorpius no longer heard; instead, he heaved an inner sigh of relief. Potter liked Longbottom. He'd listen to him.

"Fine." Potter relented at last when Longbottom had finished reasoning with him. He jabbed a finger at Scorpius. "Any funny business and you're out. D'you hear?"

Scorpius nodded, realising how hard it must be for his boss as well. After all, Potter's niece was lying dead on the bed, a few metres away.

Scorpius couldn't stop himself from watching as a member of the Body Removal Squad levitated Dominique Wood into the air. Ophélie had already been removed from the scene, as had Matthew. Dominique's left arm dangled, lifeless, under the invisible stretcher, and Scorpius immediately noticed that her ring was missing.

"Hold on a second, please," he told the officer. Scorpius knew how bad it was, but he was grateful for the distraction because it meant that his mind was not able to linger on their dead daughter. "Her wedding ring's missing," Scorpius told Potter.

"What?" Potter replied sharply. He wasn't looking at the body, but directly at Scorpius.

"I've never seen her without her wedding ring," Scorpius said seriously. "Even when she was in the shower, she wouldn't take it off."

"OK," Potter said, his eyes still fixed on Scorpius', refusing to look at his dead niece. "Well, we'll look into that. I'll get the team to search the house for the ring. Nice work. Check on the wand," Potter ordered Longbottom. Potter's arms were folded as he regarded the scene, still unable to look at Dominique.

Auror Frank Longbottom II strode forwards and picked up the wand on the floor. Just after doing so, however, Longbottom paused, using his wand to levitate a cigarette, which had already burnt a hole in the carpet.

"Does — I mean, _did_ Dominique smoke?" he asked. Scorpius and Potter shook their heads simultaneously. Shrugging, Longbottom directed the cigarette in the direction of an evidence envelope, before he performed the spell Scorpius dreaded the most: "_Prior incantato._"

As they all feared, the wand emitted a smoky shadow that clearly depicted Ophélie Wood, falling with a cry, a look of terror in her eyes; the sight was the most terrible Scorpius had ever witnessed, worse still because Ophélie's grey eyes, filled with horror, matched his own.

"Hermione! HERMIONE!" The only time Hermione Weasley could remember her husband's voice sounding so afraid was more than thirty years ago, when they'd been held captive in Malfoy Manor.

"What's the problem?" Hermione replied as calmly as she could, making her way downstairs immediately.

Ron was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs. "Dominique," he said breathlessly. "She — she — look!" Ron pointed at the fading Patronus near him and then looked at his wife again.

Hermione frowned; a second later, another stag Patronus materialised in front of her, bearing Harry's voice.

"_Hermione — Dominique, Matthew and Ophélie are dead. It's connected with the Blood and Roses case. I can't say much more here, but you need to get to the Ministry now. I don't know where either of you are today, but I've sent a message to Ron and I've let Bill know. Alicia and Oliver know too. Alicia is in America at the moment, but she's on her way. Tell Molly and Arthur and then come to the Ministry._"

Hermione's blood ran cold.

"Merlin's beard," Hermione breathed, her eyes wide with shock. "Dominique... and Ophélie... oh!" Collapsing on the stair she was standing on, her eyes filled with tears at the thought of her niece as the next victim. Despite Hermione's distaste for the _Daily Prophet,_she still read it daily. She, like the rest of the Wizarding community, was horrified at the serial killer's antics. Now, three weeks on, there were a total of ten murder victims.

Ron sat next to her on the bottom stair, hugging her. "It'll be OK," he murmured, even though he wasn't entirely sure this was true. "Listen to me, Hermione. We'll get to the bottom of this, I promise."

"She's always been such a good girl," Hermione sobbed. "And after Fleur died... Why would anyone want to kill Dominique?"

"We'll get them. Whoever did this, we'll—"

"We have to," Hermione interrupted, wiping her tears on her sleeve. She quickly regained her composure, her voice suddenly becoming sharp and brisk. "And we will. We'd better get going, Ron."

"What's going on, Mum?" Hugo's voice travelled down the stairs, worried. At the sight of his parents' grave expressions, he quickly jumped down the stairs.

"Dominique, Matthew and Ophélie are dead," Hermione echoed Harry's words. There was a sharp intake of breath from Hugo. "They're... they're victims of the Blood and Roses case."

"What?" Hugo said. "They've been murdered?"

"Yes, they have," Ron affirmed. "By who, we don't know."

"But we're going to find out," Hermione added determinedly.

Harry's — and now hers — words were still ringing in her ears: "_Dominique, Matthew and Ophélie are dead..._"

"What about Rose?" Ron and Hugo said at the same time.

"We'll tell her tomorrow morning," Hermione said in a hollow voice. Her husband and son nodded, just as a fresh wave of tears overcame Hermione. Ron hugged her again while Hugo patted his mum awkwardly on the shoulder.

Then, Ron remembered that he needed to notify his parents, and he was reminded horribly of the times he'd had to do that as an Auror and how he'd complained about it every time. It was different this time, for now (Ron shuddered at the thought) he was not only the bearer of bad news but a mourner as well.

Wiping her eyes with her hands, Hermione allowed Ron to haul her to her feet before steering her towards the door, Hugo at their heels. They were barely outside their house when they noticed the large crowd that had gathered there. Ron groaned; how could the press have got hold of the news so quickly?

However, there was no time to lose, so Ron took hold of Hermione's free hand and put his other hand on his son's shoulder before Apparating to his parents' house. It occurred to him, as he spun into fleeting oblivion, that he had never dreaded a visit to his parents' house more.

The Aurors stared in horrified awe as the smoky figure slowly dissolved into the air. At last, Potter broke the silence.

"Malfoy, tell us about the wand."

With trembling fingers, Scorpius stepped forwards, took the wand from Longbottom and immediately felt that it was familiar. He gasped as he ran his hands down it, recognising it.

"What's wrong, Scorpius?" Adam asked.

"This... this wand belongs to Rose Weasley," he said slowly. "Fourteen inches, rosewood and unicorn tail core. Useful for hexes and curses."

Adam and Longbottom stared at him, clearly wondering how on earth he could recognise Rose's wand.

"Hold on a second, Malfoy," Potter said. There were deep frown lines on his forehead. "Rose Weasley? As in my niece Rose Weasley, who just last year got into Magical Law Enforcement?"

"Yes," Scorpius replied. "The very same."

_And how many other Rose Weasleys do I know, anyway?_Scorpius wanted to say.

"We need to bring her in," said Longbottom. He looked apologetically at Potter. "And... it doesn't help that she owled me today, because she didn't come into work. She's definitely a suspect."

"Yes, I know that," Potter retorted. He took a deep, steadying breath, thinking carefully before giving out his orders.

"Malfoy, Nott, get down to Rose's residence. Bring her in for questioning and inform her that she is relieved of duty until further notice. You know where she lives?"

Both of the men shook their heads. Potter reeled off an address, and Adam hastily wrote it on a spare piece of parchment.

"And guys?" he added, his tone softening, before Adam and Scorpius could leave.

"Yes?" they said together.

"Be nice, OK? Since she's my niece and all." Potter almost sounded like he was pleading, and it surprised both Adam and Scorpius when he barked sharply, "And if either of you fuck around with her, especially if she's fully cooperating, you'll be on prison duty for the rest of the year. Understand?"

"OK," Adam and Scorpius both said in a monotone.

"I can't remember," said Rose for the fifth time to Harry. "I don't know what I was doing at that time."

Harry heaved a sigh. He was stuck. Why on earth would Rose lie to him, anyway? "Listen to me, Rosie," he said as kindly as he could, given the late hour — or the early hour, since it was just past midnight. "I hate to say it, but you're making things really difficult for me. You put up a struggle when two Aurors came to get you from your flat; your wand's been found at the scene. You're making yourself look really suspicious at the moment. I want you, please, to try your best to remember what happened today."

"But I can't!" she burst out. "I'm trying, Uncle Harry, I really am! But I can't remember anything. I swear, I'm not trying to be difficult! And you can't blame me for struggling," she added, annoyed. "What d'you expect me to do when I find Nott and Malfoy knocking on my door? Of course I had to hex Malfoy. He was hurling abuse at me — what was I meant to do?"

"He's just lost his daughter, Rose," Harry said wearily. "You can't blame him for being angry—"

"And I've just lost my cousins! How do you think I feel? Besides, it doesn't mean that he had to take it out on me, did it?"

Harry felt like saying "yes" — if Lily was murdered, Harry was sure he would have a far more violent reaction. But Rose was young; she didn't have children. She didn't know. "OK," he said, trying to maintain his patience. "OK. Forget about that now. Rose, I need you to tell me what you did yesterday."

Rose took a deep, steadying breath. "All right," she said. "Well, yesterday, I went to work as usual."

"Did you come across anything strange at work?" The fact that Harry was asking what was happening in his own workplace, the Ministry, did nothing to help the situation, because now he felt personally responsible for what had happened — regardless of whether or not Rose could remember it.

Rose shook her head. "Everything was normal. I came in at eight, like I do usually, and then I heard Malfoy and Nott talking about Ophélie. All this time, I thought Matthew was her dad, not Malfoy..."

"Cut it to the essentials, please," Harry interjected.

"OK, sorry. So, the day ended at work and I Apparated to the award ceremony where Dominique had been nominated for an award. After the ceremony was over, I went home. And there were no unusual cases yesterday — just the usual."

"What happened when you got home?"

"It was late, so I had a shower and went to bed."

"That's it?"

"That's it," Rose repeated.

"You didn't go anywhere after—?"

"I went to bed," Rose said again.

"Can you remember what happened today, then?" Harry asked.

"Yes. To a certain extent, of course." Rose folded her arms and tried her best not to glare at her uncle.

Harry surveyed his niece over his tense, interlocked fingers before looking at a sheaf of parchment on the table. "It says here that you didn't come to work today, Rose."

"That's because Dominique owled me just before I was going to leave for work. I had to go to her place. I did owl in, though, to let them know."

"What did the letter say?"

"She said..." Rose began slowly. "She told me that... she was cheating on Matt."

"All right," said Harry after a moment, trying to digest the news of his niece's infidelity. "And why would she feel the need to tell you this? Why today, of all days?"

"Because Matt found out about it today. And poor Ophélie was stuck in the middle of it all."

"What could you have done to help with that?" he asked gently.

"After Ophélie was dropped off at the nursery, we talked. For hours. I think it helped — she definitely seemed a bit better once I'd calmed her down. And then she asked if I could collect Ophélie from school."

"When was this?" Harry's quill was writing everything down.

"Around three, I think."

"Rose, who was Dominique's lover?"

"She... she didn't say." Rose's hesitation did not go unnoticed by Harry.

"Rose, if you know who it was, you need to tell me."

"I don't know who... I have no idea who he was," she replied, her tone a little more certain.

Harry raised his eyebrows but continued, "OK. Then what happened?"

Rose thought hard. There was silence, and it stretched on for several minutes. "I... I don't know, Uncle Harry," she said finally. At last, she seemed to break down — a delayed reaction to what happened. "I'm sorry," Rose whispered through her tears, "but my mind's blank."

Harry waved his wand and wordlessly Summoned a tissue from a box in the corner of the room. Catching it singlehandedly, he passed it to his niece, frowning. He waited for her sobs to subside, before at last, he decided to explain the position he was in.

"Rose, you do realise that your wand was found at the scene and that that wand was found to have had performed the Killing Curses and drawn roses on all three of the victims' backs in their own blood, don't you?" The shocking reality of his family members' murders kicked in, even with Harry's use of the word "victims". Those "victims" included his niece and great-niece. He winced and tried not to think of them as family — one of the first things he had to learn in Auror training was that you could never get too close to the victims.

"But I don't know how it got there!" she insisted. "And I didn't kill them! Why the hell would I want to kill my own cousins?"

At that moment, a memo flew in. Harry slit it open and skimmed through it, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

"You're good at drawing," he continued quietly, as if she hadn't spoken, while he carried on reading. "Hermione's always told me that. You do it as a hobby. And Dominique's ring is missing. D'you know where it is?"

Rose shook her head.

"Can you remember if she was wearing it when you spoke to her last?"

She thought for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. She never takes it off, ever. Why?"

Harry sighed. "We're going to have to search your flat, I'm afraid, Rose."

"What?" She sounded outraged. "Why?"

"Tell me, Rose, for the benefit of the record, do you smoke?" Harry said, ignoring her protests. It was such an obvious question that Harry felt silly asking it.

Rose paused before replying, "You know perfectly well that I do. Are you going to lecture me on that, too?"

Harry shook his head. "A cigarette was found on the floor in Dominique's flat. There are several plausible theories that don't include you, but since you can't tell me what you were doing during the hours of five and seven p.m., I have no choice but to regard you as a suspect."

Rose crossed her arms. "Yeah? What's my motive?"

"Matt Wood's an ex of yours, isn't he?"

"And how the _fuck_do you know that, Uncle Harry?" Rose hissed before she could stop herself. "I may be a fucking murder suspect, but you have no fucking right to nose into my personal life like that!"

"I didn't have to," Harry replied calmly, unperturbed by her sudden change in demeanour. "I already knew because Matt's parents, Alicia and Oliver, are both close friends of mine. You were open with your parents about your relationship with Matt until it ended. Your parents are my best friends and your father is my brother-in-law. If you remembered."

"OK, so that's my only motive? Well, at least it's just for Matt."

"No, actually," said Harry. "The other one is that you're jealous of Dominique for being married to Matthew. We're just not sure why you'd want to do in Ophélie, but when we find out, we'll definitely let you know."

"Godric," Rose breathed. "You're actually serious?"

"Deadly," Harry snapped. He turned off the tape and stood up, and even though he wasn't very tall, he still looked every bit the scary Auror to Rose. "This isn't a joke, Rose. This is a fucking murder investigation and the Minister, I'm sure you'll be ecstatic to know, doesn't give a shit that you're my niece or that you're my best friends' daughter. Everyone thinks you did it, you've as good as been caught red-handed, the _Prophet_has already found out, somehow, and arguing with me, being sarcastic with me, will not fucking help! And I am trying my hardest to get you out of this fucking mess, so you should bloody well appreciate it!" At last, Harry's temper had got the better of him, as had his language.

Yet it seemed to have worked because a moment later Rose mumbled, "I'm sorry."

"Me as well," he said after a moment, as his eyes lost the anger that had been there just a moment ago. "But I need some answers, Rose. Otherwise, there's no way you're getting out of that courtroom scot-free."

"But what the hell do you expect me to do if I can't remember anything?"

"Veritaserum," said Harry quietly.

"Excuse me?" Rose said faintly.

"You're going to have to take Veritaserum, since you can't — or won't — tell me where you were last night."

"But why?"

"We've got to eliminate you from the investigation, Rose. You're our prime suspect right now and that means you will remain in custody until it is clear that you weren't involved in the deaths of Dominique, Matthew or Ophélie. You were there — you were one of the four people present at the time of death. The presence of your wand is enough to prove that you were there around the time of the murder. The others, obviously, are the victims. So you need an alibi. The sooner you get it, the better. I'm sorry things are the way they are, but there's nothing I can do about it. All I can do, I'm afraid, is do my job," he finished softly.

"I don't want to," Rose declared. She couldn't take Veritaserum. If she did, all her secrets would be revealed — and to her uncle, no less. And she did not want that. "You can't force me to. After that law was passed, I have to actually _consent_to being given Veritaserum. And I fucking refuse."

With yet another sigh, Harry got up, and without a word, he left the room, intending to talk to his two best friends.

**Please review? This story hasn't got any so far. You'll make my day if you do!**


	3. Healers' Handwriting

**Author's Chapter Notes:**

Once again, fair warning. Ladylike language does not exist in this story.

He still hadn't cried. He'd screamed, shouted, sworn, kicked, punched and hit everything within a few inches of him that wasn't human and Scorpius was becoming frustrated at his helplessness. Because not once so far had even a single tear fallen from his eyes. Initially, he had put this down to shock, but it seemed that the tears just didn't want to come out. Nevertheless, Scorpius felt a great hollowness in him, a void where his daughter had been for nine months. So far, that emptiness had not manifested itself into tears, and he didn't know if it ever would do.

Scorpius and Adam made their way to their shared office. The cubicles of the old days had long since disappeared, replaced with offices for practicality.

"So," said Adam in a businesslike voice as he Summoned several files from the filing cabinet nearby, "why would Weasley want to do in Dominique in the first place?"

"Neither of them has any previous criminal records, do they?"

Adam shook his head, opening the topmost file. "But let's look at Rose Weasley's background first. Twenty-one, single — as far as we know — and with just the one brother, Hugo. Parents are Ron and Hermione Weasley, both of whom have an Order of Merlin, First Class, for fighting in the war. Rose seems to be a prominent member of the Wizarding community, having recently become a member of Magical Law Enforcement. No priors, nothing to indicate that she was responsible for any of the Blood and Roses murders."

"Who says that she did the others, though?" Scorpius said, with a touch of anger mingled with frustration in his voice. "She could just be a copycat. Anyone who's anyone would know the MO of the killer, so what if Rose just wanted to kill Dominique and Matthew?"

Adam shook his head. "The MOs are too similar — little details, like the precision of the rose and the fact that they were all positioned on a bed, that weren't mentioned in the papers are consistent in this murder and in the others. There are noticeable differences, though; there was never a wand left behind, nor a cigarette. The previous murders all seemed to be pre-meditated, carefully planned out. This one seems hasty. But the question is, what's Rose's motive?"

"Matthew Wood is Rose's ex. They went out during sixth year."

"And?" he asked sceptically. "You think this was about—"

"Jealousy," said Scorpius simply. "'If I can't have you, no one can. Least of all my own cousin.'"

"OK, so while that might count as a motive for murdering Matthew and Dominique," Adam reasoned, "it still doesn't explain what happened to Ophélie." He looked a little apprehensive of mentioning her name. Sure enough, Scorpius was unable to reply; his throat constricted and he could not speak.

"Let's look at Dominique next," continued Adam hastily. He set Rose's file aside and opened Dominique's. "Twenty-two years old, married to Matthew Wood, also twenty-two. Her father, William 'Bill' Weasley, was attacked by Fenrir Greyback in 1997. Her mother was part-Veela — died of cancer a few years back. We know that Dominique was close especially to her cousin, Rose Weasley. As recently as two days ago, she won an award for services to the Wizarding community — she was a voluntary Healer, although she never used the title. She has a sister, Victoire, and a brother, Louis. Her brother-in-law is a Metamorphmagus, Edward 'Teddy' Remus Lupin. Victoire is pregnant."

"Teddy's my—" Scorpius began to say automatically, but then he stopped himself.

Adam rolled his eyes. "I know he's related to you. But that's got nothing to do with it. Rose Weasley. She's the only suspect in this case — so far."

"Dominique and Rose are — were — good friends."

"Any chance that Dominique liked girls?"

"None at all," said Scorpius, without hesitation. "She was with Matthew."

_She also slept with me,_ he added silently. _Which makes her poker straight in my book. Even if..._

His train of thought was interrupted by Adam again. "Did Rose ever seem to have problems with lesbians generally?"

Scorpius shook his head.

"What about with Matthew? Any problems?"

"I'm not sure," Scorpius replied uncertainly. It didn't seem right. Rose was a lot of things, but was she really capable of murder? It didn't add up, now that he came to think about it. "She went out with him in sixth year — we all know that. But now? I don't know. We should ask his parents. And Rose's."

Adam nodded. "Ron and Hermione Weasley are here already, but they don't know about Rose yet. I suppose we'll have to break it to them — unless Potter gets there before us."

They began to make their way out of the Aurors' office, but their path was almost immediately blocked by Longbottom and the newest Auror in their department, Amelia Macmillan.

"Where are you two going?" asked Macmillan rather annoyingly.

"To see Oliver and Alicia Wood," said Adam staunchly. "Matthew Wood's parents."

"And Ron and Hermione Weasley," Scorpius added. "Rose's parents."

"I'm sorry about Ophélie, Scorpius," Amelia said sincerely. "She was a lovely—"

"Yes, thank you, Macmillan," Scorpius nearly snapped. "Can we get going?" This was directed at Adam, who was watching him apprehensively.

He nodded. "Let's fill them in first, though."

As quickly as they could, Adam and Scorpius told them what they already knew about Dominique and Rose and what Scorpius suspected Rose's motives to be.

"So far, though, the only clue we have is the MO, which matches the other victims in all respects except the fact that Dominique is — was — straight, Wood was a guy and—" Scorpius halted in his words, unable to continue.

"The girl was only three years old," Adam finished hastily. "We're as confused as you are. Anyway, the other evidence we have is the cigarette butt, which was found near the wand on the floor. It was still fairly warm when we found it, suggesting that the killer hadn't been gone for long, and it's consistent with the autopsy results, which say that the time of death was between five and seven p.m. In addition, there's Dominique's missing ring, which — according to two people so far — she never takes off. We'll have to confirm that one with her family and friends, but its disappearance definitely seems suspicious and makes the murder seem like a personal attack."

"But all of the attacks were personal," Amelia reasoned. "Not one of the Blood and Roses victims put up a struggle, and that means that they all almost certainly knew the attacker."

"This one's different, though, because before this our guy's only done one at a time. This time, they've done three," said Longbottom. "And one's a man."

The Atrium in the Ministry of Magic was so full of redheads that onlookers were beginning to stare, forgetting about their business. Admittedly, due to the late hour, the Ministry was not as full as it was in the daytime, but there were still many midnight workers trying to complete last minute reports.

Half of the Weasley family was there: Ginny, Arthur, Molly, Bill, George, Hermione, Ron, Hugo, Victoire, Teddy and Louis.

Oliver and Alicia arrived at the Atrium as the Weasleys waited for the lifts. As they squeezed into the two lifts, they all wore the same expression of grief. No one was talking much; there wasn't really anything to say. The only sounds were the sobs of Victoire, Hermione and Molly. Ginny's eyes, while red, refused to let the tears fall. The men tried to maintain their composure, patting the backs of their wives and children and nieces, attempting to comfort them without succeeding because their own hearts were throbbing with loss and shock as well.

Ron and Hermione stood without saying a word to each other in the corner of the lift, Hermione grasping her husband's hand tightly. He returned the pressure, trying to reassure her that it was going to be OK, but he wasn't even sure of that. The fact that their own niece, Ron's flesh and blood, had been murdered by a cold-blooded serial killer did nothing to ease the situation. He couldn't even try to placate anyone by saying she probably hadn't suffered, because the likelihood of the murderer having allowed Dominique the mercy of a quick, painless exit was very, very small.

As they finally reached the floor for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the Weasleys, Alicia and Oliver filed out of the lift. Since several of the Weasleys worked in the department, they led the way.

They reached the Auror Office. Harry was standing at the door, waiting for them. As soon as he opened it, Hermione lunged forwards and enveloped him in an overwhelming hug, sobbing into his chest.

Harry, still not entirely comfortable with comforting people, awkwardly patted his sister-in-law, trying to pull away from her to avoid suffocation. Ginny, far more composed but her eyes red from crying, simply held his hand as he spoke to the families.

"I can't — you'll have to wait outside for a while, until we call you in for questioning. Oliver, Alicia, I'm so, so sorry for your loss — some Aurors will be with you shortly to question you."

The Woods acquiesced, as did the Weasleys, with the exception of Bill. He shakily stepped forwards, his face stained with tears.

"Who did it?" he said hoarsely. When Harry didn't immediately reply, Bill took hold of Harry's shoulders and shook him. "WHO DID IT?" he bellowed, so loudly that his voice echoed around the tiny room.

The Weasleys, Oliver and Alicia recoiled, frightened by the sudden burst of anger.

"We — we can't tell you just yet, Bill," said Harry quickly. "I... I'll let you know as soon as I can. I promise."

"Tell me. Tell me now and then I'll go and kill the bastard."

"I'm going to have to pretend I didn't hear that," Harry replied, trying to maintain his temper again. Godric, Rose had already tried to make him angry, and it had worked. Harry did not think he could deal with much more. "It's my duty as Head of the Auror Office to report death threats — you know that."

"That's my fucking daughter!" Bill yelled.

"Bill, please calm down." Arthur's voice seemed weighed down, yet as he placed his hand on his son's shoulder, he appeared the calmest. "Harry will find whoever did this. Do you hear me? And we will let him get arrested and serve his time in Azkaban. You're not going to kill him, OK?"

Before Bill had a chance to reply, Harry whispered tentatively, "Ron, Hermione, I need a word."

Still hand-in-hand, Ron and Hermione left Arthur softly placating his son and followed Harry into the office. They weren't sure what to expect.

Harry took a deep breath and said, "OK, I need you to know that I have no idea what the hell this is all about. I don't know if she's being framed, or if she's actually — God forbid she actually—"

"Harry, what are you talking about?"asked Hermione, frowning.

"Look, you've got to understand that—"

"Mate, can you just say it, please? I'm sure we can deal with whatever you're about to tell us."

"Where has Rose been today?"

"Work, of course," said Hermione, as if the answer was obvious. "Right now, she's probably in her flat."

Harry shook his head. "She's here. She's a suspect for the case." Hermione gasped while Ron's eyes widened, shock silencing him for a second.

"What did you just say?" asked Hermione faintly.

"You mean my daughter?" said Ron loudly, his voice coming back and veering dangerously close to shouting. "You're saying that you suspect my Rose of _murdering_ her own cousins?"

"Ron, keep your voice down," Harry pleaded. "Please—"

"I WILL NOT FUCKING KEEP MY VOICE DOWN! MY DAUGHTER IS NOT A FUCKING MURDERER!" Ron was yelling at the top of his lungs now. They could hear the voices of the Weasleys outside as they reacted to the new revelation.

"I'm not saying she was — the evidence is saying something different, though. Her wand was found at the scene," Harry tried to reason. "We found out that the same wand killed all three of them. There was a cigarette found at the scene as well, and she might have smoked the cigarette before leaving. She can't give us an alibi and she can't even remember what she was doing today, during the time of death. She refuses to take Veritaserum, so we can't tell if she's telling the truth when she says she can't remember."

"THAT DOESN'T MEAN—"

"Ron," said Hermione softly, "Ron, please stop shouting." At his wife's words, Ron stopped abruptly, but the angry tears in his eyes were still there. "Let's talk about this," said Hermione, in the same soft voice. "And this time, maybe it'd help if we used _Muffliato._"

A short while later, Ron, Hermione and Harry emerged from Harry's office and headed towards an unused office where Rose was being held. Harry couldn't help but give his niece special treatment; considering her official status as a suspect, she should have been held in a cell. But after all, as Ron very rightly said, there was no way Rose had done it. They just had to prove it.

When they reached the office, Harry opened the door, and his two best friends rushed inside, hugging their daughter.

Once Ron and Hermione were seated opposite their daughter, Harry spoke. "Rose, can you remember where you were between the hours of five and seven p.m. today?"

"No, I can't," she replied quickly.

"That's OK, sweetie," said Ron, clumsily patting her hand.

"Are you willing to take Veritaserum to prove that you can't remember anything?"

Rose was about to shake her head, but her mother interrupted. "Rosie, it won't do you any harm to take it. We've got to take you off the suspect list. Or else—"

"But why? It's a complete invasion of my privacy. There are things I don't want to tell you."

"Like what?" Hermione countered. "Can you honestly tell me one thing that you know and that I don't know?"

_Yes,_ Rose wanted to say. But instead of answering her mother's question, she said hotly, "Do you actually believe that I could—"

"No, we don't," said Ron firmly. "You're innocent and we will prove it. But we need your help — your cooperation. Otherwise..."

"But the evidence is circumstantial!" Rose insisted. "Isn't it?"

"Look, forget the evidence for a second, Rose. I bet Bill and Molly and Victoire and Louis already suspect you," said Harry honestly. Both Ron and Hermione looked outraged at Harry's statement, but he quickly continued. "A few years ago, Bill lost a wife. Molly lost a daughter-in-law whom she claimed wasn't her favourite, but everyone else said otherwise. And Victoire and Louis lost their mum. Now they've lost two others, both of whom were far too young to die. It can't be easy for them. They're going to want someone to blame, and all the evidence is pointing at you, Rose — whether or not it's circumstantial or concrete. You know that. Just take the Veritaserum, and we can know for certain that you didn't do it. And that way, we won't split up your family in the process."

"Don't you trust her?" Hermione whispered, looking anguished. "Can't you just believe her?"

"I can," Harry said, "but the Ministry can't. You know that, Hermione. So, Rose," he pressed, a steely note to his voice, "what's it going to be?"

Scorpius and Adam returned from their interrogation of the Woods, irritated at the little information they had gleaned. Matthew, it turned out, had had a lot of enemies due to his status as a popular Quidditch player. There were people who'd sent him hate mail simply because he had made them lose a bet, while others insisted that his team had cheated. After reading the first few letters, Matthew had simply binned them all, making it impossible to compile a list of suspects.

They were joined at their office moments later by Lonbottom and Macmillan.

"Did you hear?" said Longbottom. "Rose is finally going to talk."

"She's taking the..." Nott began.

"The Veritaserum, yeah," finished Longbottom. "I don't know how they managed to persuade her, though."

"What did the Woods tell you?" asked Macmillan.

"Nothing, really. They said that Rose and Matthew didn't have any problems, which may be because they didn't talk to each other much. They did say that Rose broke up with him quite abruptly, but that Matthew was kind of happy about it, because they weren't the best couple."

In the office where Rose was, Alicia and Oliver's words were being corroborated by Rose.

Rose, taking a deep breath and managing a tiny smile at her father, who was sitting opposite her, raised the bottle of Veritaserum to her lips and drank.

"State your full name and date of birth for the record, please."

"Rose Lima Weasley, 18th October 2006."

Harry nodded, assured that the potion was working. "What was your relationship like with Matthew Wood?" Harry asked.

Rose answered, "We went out in sixth year and when he tried to grope me, I ended it."

Ron and Hermione gasped, and even Rose looked surprised. "But... but you told me it was because..." Hermione started, but Harry interrupted.

"This isn't the time, Hermione. Continue, Rose. Was there any hostility between you and Matthew after your relationship was over?"

"Yes," Rose answered. Again, she looked shocked at how the potion was controlling her. "We weren't on speaking terms until he married Dominique last year. Then, for the sake of everyone, we stayed out of each other's way and we didn't argue when we were at family functions together. It was only a couple of weeks ago that we had a row."

"Over what?" Harry prompted.

"Matthew was getting Ophélie's surname changed to Wood. All this time, it had been Weasley."

"Why did you have a problem with that decision?"

"Matt was a smarmy, arrogant git. He thought he was the best person in the world just because he was a Quidditch player. And Matt wasn't even Ophélie's dad. He had no right to her, and Dominique, for that matter, clearly didn't think much of him either if she was cheating on him."

"So you knew about Dominique being unfaithful?"

"Yes, I've known for three years."

"Who was Dominique's lover?" he asked, ignoring the shocked expressions on Ron and Hermione's faces at the revelation of Dominique's infidelity.

"Gabriella Zabini," Rose said immediately.

"A _girl_?" Ron said, before could stop himself.

Harry disregarded Ron's interjection, asking, "How long were they together for?"

"When I was in sixth year," she replied, even though she was stunned at how the words were spilling out of her, "I came across them snogging in Gryffindor Tower once. Just after that, we found out about Aunt Fleur, and since then, I don't know what's been going on with Dominique and Gabriella. They asked me to keep it a secret, though, when I saw them in sixth year. They've had a thing ever since. It's been on-off, as far as I know."

"Do you think that Gabriella could have killed Dominique, Matthew and Ophélie?"

"No," Rose said. "She loved Dominique. She's gone through so much — I don't think she's capable of murder. If anything, Matt would have killed Gabriella for being with Dominique, not the other way round."

"Rose, where were you between the hours of five and seven p.m. tonight?"

"I don't know."

"What?"

"I said, I don't know."

"She doesn't know, Harry," said Ron. "She's in the clear now, isn't she?"

Harry shook his head. "All it means is that Rose still could've done it, but just not known about it. She could have had her memory modified or wiped clean, even. The most that could do is reduce the murder charge to manslaughter—"

"What?" said Hermione. "But — you said that—"

"If she could remember where she was and have someone provide her with an alibi, then she would be fine. No one can corroborate that she was at home. So we don't know where she's been between those times. She's still a suspect, I'm afraid. But we'll look into Gabriella's file. Maybe she can help."

Rose nodded, accepting her fate. The Veritaserum appeared to have calmed her down somehow.

"Gabriella's the daughter of Blaise Zabini, isn't she?" asked Ron. Harry nodded.

"Died a couple of years ago, Blaise did," Hermione supplied.

With that in mind, Harry said a quick goodbye and left the office to meet Malfoy, Nott, Macmillan and Longbottom.

"You're all working overtime," he announced. "Anyone got an issue with that, please let me know. Otherwise, dig up Gabriella Zabini's file and while you're at it, look at Blaise Zabini's, too. Chase up anything suspicious and get back to me. Malfoy, Nott, did you get anything useful from Oliver and Alicia?"

"No," Nott said. "They did say that Matthew got a lot of hate mail, but I doubt that Quidditch is a motive."

"True," said Harry. "At the moment, the only plausible motive is jealousy. But even that runs a little thin, because apart from Ophélie being in the wrong place at the wrong time — which is unlikely given that she was in her own house — why would anyone want to kill a little girl?"

This was met by silence.

"We'll take a look at Zabini, then," Nott said finally. "If you don't mind us asking, what's the connection?"

"We happen to believe that Gabriella and Dominique were having an affair."

Malfoy managed to look surprised at this. He and Nott exchanged a look.

"Do you two know her?" Harry asked, not missing a trick.

"Kind of," said Malfoy. "She's an ex."

"So what do you think, Malfoy? Is she capable of murder?"

"No," he said immediately. "At least, not because of jealousy. But I didn't know her that well. I can't really say."

"Well, have a look at her file and see if you can find anything questionable. If you can, I want you two to find her and interrogate her. She might cooperate more because you know her."

"All right," said Malfoy.

A while later, Scorpius called his fellow Aurors over. He was looking at Blaise Zabini's death certificate while drinking coffee.

"This is strange. It says that a house-elf accidentally put milk in his tea, and he died because of his lactose allergy."

"What's strange about that?" asked Macmillan.

Scorpius flicked through the file. "It's weird because there is no other mention of lactose intolerance. And I know it's a pain in the arse when you can't eat anything dairy — my mum's lactose intolerant, and it makes eating out a nightmare for her. Surely there would've been an incident in which he ate something he shouldn't have?"

"What about Gabriella's mum?" Longbottom enquired.

"She committed suicide, apparently. Funny. Gabriella never mentioned that to me."

"OK... Scorpius, me and you will go to Gabriella's place," said Nott. "Macmillan, Longbottom, see if you can get anything else out of the Weasley family."

Harry groaned when he saw there was a Healer waiting outside the Auror Office along with Bill, Oliver and Alicia. Once the other Weasleys had been questioned, they had returned home, as there was nothing else for them to do at the Ministry. Alicia, exhausted from her journey, had her face in her hands. Whether it was from grief or fatigue, they didn't know, but no one wanted to disturb her.

A new law had been passed recently that required everyone in the Ministry's custody to be examined by a Healer to confirm that they were well enough to be held and interrogated. The law was a nuisance for Harry, not least because of the amount of paperwork.

"Hello," he said politely, as he opened the door and held out his hand. The Healer shook it briefly before letting go.

"Healer Maira Parkinson," she introduced herself. "And you are Auror Harry Potter. Lovely to meet you. Well," Maira Parkinson amended, noting the expressions on Oliver's, Alicia's and Bill's faces, "perhaps not, given the circumstances. Where is Miss Weasley?"

"You're going to have to sign in the visitor's book first," Harry told her, Summoning the book and a quill before handing it to her.

She smiled and quickly signed her name, writing the reason for her visit, before giving the book back to Harry. He placed it on an empty chair, nodded at Bill and Oliver and straightened up again.

"Now, let's get this over with."

They walked together towards the office where Rose was being held, passing Scorpius and Nott as they did so.

"We're going to Gabriella's place," Nott told Harry. "Some things in her dad's file don't add up."

"OK," Harry said. He turned to Maira, opening the office door. "This way, please."

Scorpius and Nott opened the door and were at the Auror Office entrance when Scorpius spoke. "Was that Maira Parkinson?" he asked.

Adam nodded. "Look, she even signed in the visitor's book. No one ever does that."

Frowning, Scorpius lifted the book and looked carefully at the signature. It was neat and curly. The writing, too, was neat and almost calligraphic.

"Adam," he said, "when was the last time you met a Healer whose handwriting you could read?"

**Chapter End Notes:**

What did you think? That box down there needs feeding. Could you do the honours? Also, no offence is intended to any doctors — I really haven't met one with legible writing, though. Feel free to prove me wrong — in a review, preferably :)


	4. Rosy Regrets

**Author's Chapter Notes:**

This is the last chapter. It's been fun, folks.

Scorpius and Adam raced to the unused office, Oliver and Bill (who were previously waiting at the Auror Office entrance) hot on their heels. Before Scorpius could admonish the two men for following them, Bill opened the door.

The four men gasped; there was no sign of either Rose or Maira.

"Someone was impersonating Maira," said Scorpius, astonished. "Where did they take Rose?"

"_How_ did they take her?" Adam said.

"Portkey," said Oliver quickly. "There are anti-Apparating wards here, and there are no fireplaces or windows. That takes flying and Floo out of the equation. It must mean that whoever that person was took Rose by unauthorised Portkey."

"Nott, you stay here with Mr Wood and Mr Weasley," Scorpius ordered. "I'll look for—"

"We're coming with you," said Oliver and Bill in unison.

"No," Scorpius replied. "There's no reason why you—"

"Whoever that Healer was kidnapped her to keep her quiet, isn't it? It wasn't Rose. Someone framed her," said Bill.

"That's right, Mr Weasley," supplied Adam, ignoring Scorpius' scowl.

"I knew it wasn't her," Bill said, more to himself than anyone else.

"This is our chance," Oliver said. "If we can find him—"

"Her," Scorpius corrected. "It's a her. We know that much, at least."

"Then for the love of Merlin, boy, can we just go?" Bill demanded. His grief, Scorpius could see, had turned into anger, the same furiousness that Scorpius was sure was in his own.

"Fine," he said at last. "But Adam, stay here in case she comes back. Let everyone know. We'll take a Portkey."

Without further ado, Scorpius picked up a used tissue from the table and muttered, "_Portus_." The tissue glowed blue and Scorpius held it out for Bill and Oliver.

"On the count of three," Scorpius said as Oliver and Bill put a finger each on the tissue, before either of them could ask where they were going. "One... two... three!"

The three men were jerked off their feet into oblivion before landing roughly inside an unfamiliar block of flats.

"Gabriella's flat," Scorpius panted, answering their unasked question as they got to their feet. Sprinting up the stairs and reaching number seventy-seven, he was about to blast open the door, but Bill beat him to it, and they raced inside to find Gabriella, the last vestiges of Polyjuice Potion having left her, holding her wand to Rose's throat.

"Drop your wands," she threatened, "or this bitch dies!"

Rose knew something was amiss as soon as she noticed the strange expression in Maira Parkinson's eyes. Before Rose could do anything, Maira Confunded Harry and closed the door behind her, flicking her wand to silence Rose before she could protest. Without saying anything to her, "Maira" withdrew Dominique's ring from her pocket and grabbed Rose's wrist, forcing her to touch it too, just as it glowed blue. Rose, wandless, was powerless to do anything magically harmful, but she still struggled under the impostor's grip. She couldn't even cry for help as they were taken into oblivion by the illegal Portkey.

They arrived at an unfamiliar flat, just as the woman's skin started darkening a little, until it reached its real coffee colour. Maira Parkinson's short, spiky brown hair lengthened into dark, messy curls.

"You!" Rose tried to say. Her lips moved soundlessly but she couldn't speak.

Gabriella Zabini flicked her wand, removing the Silencing Charm and binding Rose with invisible ropes.

"Yeah, me," she snarled. Gabriella Summoned her cigarettes and a lighter. The sweet smell of the smoke made Rose crave one.

"You killed them?" Rose said, trying to struggle against the binds, partly as a distraction from the tantalising scent of the cigarette.

"The girls Dominique fucked instead of me? Yes, I did."

"Why?"

"Why? Why? Dominique was — everyone thought she was so... so _good._ But she wasn't. She was damaged, and only I seemed to know that. And I'm just as damaged. We've both lost our mums, our dads are bastards—"

"Don't call my uncle that," Rose snarled. "And don't you dare make out that my cousin was some kind of slut—"

"I never said she was, Rose. I could never think that. Dominique was far from that. She was better than me. She was a Healer, and an intelligent, beautiful one at that. All I am is a poxy journalist."

"It was _you_. You wrote those articles in the _Prophet!_"

"I had to throw everyone off the scent. But those girls couldn't have her. No one had a right to her."

"And what about Matthew Wood?"

"Wood had no right to Dominique either. He was a pretentious bastard and he deserved to be murdered ten times over," Gabriella told her furiously, the ash from the cigarette falling on the floor. "And I know that deep down you're relieved he's dead, because you hate him as much as I do. That just made you look better for his murder."

"Why me?" Rose demanded. "Why frame me? What have I done to you?"

Gabriella shook her head. "Things were starting to look suspicious. I needed to pin it on someone. You could have stopped this, you know. If you'd just talked to Dominique like I asked, tried to make her see sense, tried to tell her that she was better off without him, this might have never happened. Matthew had to die — and you had to have killed him."

"So you took my wand—"

"Yes, and then I had the pleasure of seeing the man I hate the most die right before my eyes. You don't know how satisfying it was, Rose. It was far more satisfying than killing those whores. And then all I had to do was wipe your memory and that was it."

"So you killed Matthew?" she repeated, attempting to free her arms. If she managed to get out of there alive, she could at least get a confession out of Gabriella. With luck, the memory of the confession could be used in court, but it was tricky.

Alternatively, of course, Rose could try and persuade Gabriella to turn herself in. However, the more Rose struggled, the more unseen binds her captor simply added, wrapping around her tighter.

"Yes, I did," she replied, unperturbed by Rose's gasps of pain as the ropes cut into her skin. "Dominique is _mine;_ do you hear? Mine, and mine alone. She's not Oph lie's or Wood's or Scorpius' or anyone else's."

"Dominique's dead," Rose told her, still struggling. "She's — no one's. Least of all — yours."

"You bitch—"

"And you're a fucking murderer!" Rose yelled. "Yes, Matt didn't like the fact that you were fucking Dominique. And I can kind of see why you didn't like him. But—

"Were you at Dominique's award ceremony yesterday?" Gabriella interrupted.

"Yes, I was, but how is that—"

"In her acceptance speech," Gabriella said loudly, "did you hear who she thanked first?" She let out a cold, mirthless laugh. "She said 'I want to thank my wife.' And then she quickly corrected herself and said "My husband". Everyone found it so funny because she's never been the best speaker in the world. But no one considered how — how true her words might've been, if things were different. And it was a lie. She couldn't have wanted to thank her husband. She meant me. I know she did."

"So why kill Dominique? Didn't you love her?"

Gabriella's face crumpled as she said, in a hushed voice very unlike her previously bitter tone, "She said — she said we were over. It... it was after it slipped out. I was trying to tell her how much I loved her, how I would kill for her, how I _had_ killed for her. And then she knew. She knew in an instant what I'd done. She said we couldn't be together anymore, that we were only ever fuck buddies to begin with, nothing else, not even lovers, for crying out loud, when she's the best thing that ever happened to me! And she told me we had to stop, because she didn't want me anymore. She said she could never want a murderer."

"You didn't answer my question," Rose shot back. "You loved her. Didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Then what the fuck possessed you to murder her? And how could you be so heartless — murdering a three-year-old, who was the best thing that ever happened to Dominique?"

"She grassed me up," Gabriella snapped, stubbing out her cigarette and stamping on it. "_Oph lie,_ the little brat, she had to go and open her big mouth and tell her bloody stepdad. And then he was going to turn me in. He bloody well said he was going to go to the Ministry and tell on me, and I couldn't just let that slide. Especially since Dominique was siding with _him._ If I hadn't killed Matthew, he would've grassed me up, just like Oph lie did about me and Dominique being together.

"I had to silence Matthew. I never meant to hurt Oph lie or Dominique. But when Dominique started at me, saying how she was going to... I didn't know what to do. I had to kill her. I didn't have a choice. I didn't have a choice," Gabriella repeated.

Before Rose had time to digest Gabriella's words, there was a bang and the door was blasted open. Gabriella jumped forwards, wand outstretched, and for the first time, Rose noticed Dominique's ring on her finger. By the time Bill, Oliver and Scorpius had entered, however, Gabriella's wand was at Rose's throat.

"Drop your wands," she threatened, "or this bitch dies!"

Rose was struck dumb by sheer fear; the mad anger in Gabriella's eyes was enough to make Rose realise that she was deadly serious. It was then that Rose finally understood: there was no chance of trying to persuade Gabriella to turn herself in. She was fighting a losing battle. She tried to cry out, but couldn't, and the binds just seemed to get tighter and tighter by the second. Pretty soon, Rose was sure she would suffocate.

Bill and Oliver were slowly lowering their wands, but Scorpius, seemingly forgetting about non-verbal spells, yelled, "_Diffindo!_"

Rose and Gabriella flew apart from the force of the spell. Scorpius, Bill and Oliver, pointing their wands at Gabriella, simultaneously screamed, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

They were avenging their respective children; as the jets of green light flew around the room, Scorpius and Oliver ducked while Rose lay, helpless but safe, in the corner of the room. Gabriella just missed a Killing Curse by an inch as she spun on the spot and Disapparated, but Bill was hit squarely in the chest as the curse reached a wall and bounded back at him. He fell to the ground, almost in slow motion, as what was left of his life was sapped out of him, possibly by his own curse.

"Oh my God," Rose breathed, wondering when her voice had came back. "No! No!"

Scorpius turned towards Bill, but something was hanging in mid-air that caught his attention instead. He stared at what Gabriella had accidentally left behind in her haste to Apparate: a finger. Maybe it was Scorpius' doing, with the Severing Charm, and not Splinching.

There was a white-gold ring on the disembodied finger. "She Splinched herself," he murmured. "Or I accidentally chopped it off. But she was wearing Dominique's wedding ring."

"Shit," said Oliver softly.

"Shit," Scorpius agreed. With a sigh, he walked over to Rose and tried his best to ignore the tears falling down her cheeks as he undid the invisible ropes.

Harry, Macmillan, Nott and Longbottom were on their way to Gabriella's flat as soon as Nott informed Harry. By this time, the Confundus Charm had worn off too. He was outraged that someone, a Healer under Polyjuice Potion no less, had managed to Confund him, but his anger was replaced almost immediately by shock and grief the moment he caught sight of his brother-in-law's dead body.

In monotonous voices, Rose and Scorpius carefully explained to Harry that Gabriella Zabini, Dominique's ex-lover, had taken Rose by Portkey to her flat while disguised as Maira Parkinson. Then she had confessed all to Rose, and Rose told Harry that she was prepared to use her memory of Gabriella's confession in court. In addition to that, they had the physical evidence of Gabriella's Splinched or Severed finger, wearing Dominique's ring.

They told Harry that Gabriella killed Bill. It was Rose and Scorpius' duties as a Law Enforcement Officer and an Auror to report any violations of magical and Muggle laws, but Rose owed Scorpius her life and neither wanted to contemplate the possibility that Scorpius or Oliver might have caused Bill's death. And the possibility that Bill might have taken his own life by accident, mere hours after his daughter and granddaughter had been discovered dead, was far too terrible to even consider.

Harry accepted their story without comment, too focused on his slip-up — which Rose kept telling him was only because he was tired and hadn't slept — and the fact that there was now a serial killer on the loose, one that had murdered a total of three family members. It didn't help that Victoire and Louis were now orphaned. It was not easy for them, and Rose could tell that it would take a long time for them to adjust to the profound absence of their father, sister and niece.

The funeral itself, held a week later, was a tear-filled yet deadly quiet affair, packed with people of all sorts. Oph lie was buried in the Weasley cemetery, at Molly's request, along with Dominique and Bill, next to Fleur. Matthew was laid to rest in his family's graveyard, but he was mentioned in Bill, Dominique and Oph lie's funeral as a valued son-in-law, devoted husband and loving stepfather of the deceased.

Rose was given time off for bereavement and injuries, but she found it impossible to accept the time off. Instead, she returned to work, even though it was a Saturday. Harry, who disapproved of her working but was unable to do anything about it, checked on her regularly.

"I'm fine, Uncle Harry," she told him for the twentieth time. "Don't worry about me, OK?"

"I have to, Rosie," he replied. "I don't want anything like that to—"

"Can we not talk about it, please?" Rose interrupted. For want of something else to do, she pulled out her wand and started rearranging the files in a drawer so that they were in alphabetical order.

Harry watched her efficiently ordering the files, so much like her mother and yet so different, too. Her attitude was far too much like Ron's, but her skills were definitely inherited from Hermione.

"Rose?"

"Yeah?"

"How did Malfoy know about your wand?"

Rose frowned. "He... er... he took it from me once and said he just wanted to look at it. I guess he must have remembered from then."

"Really?" he asked, a tiny trace of scepticism in his tone.

"Yep," she replied, just as an idea popped into her head. "In fact... I almost forgot, Uncle Harry. There's something I have to do. I'll... I'll see you later."

Replacing her wand into its holster and leaving the drawer open, the files half-in, half-out, Rose left the room. Soon, she exited the Ministry, finding her favourite Muggle bakery and purchasing sugary jam doughnuts. Not even bothering to laugh at one of the baker's stupid jokes, she left the shop as quickly as she could, hoping that Scorpius was in his office.

She wasn't entirely sure why she was going to him, only that she knew she owed him enormously. If he hadn't intervened, Gabriella would have killed her. Rose shuddered upon as she remembered the mad expression in Gabriella's eyes.

Knocking on the door, Rose waited for an answer, and was relieved to hear Scorpius' voice. "Come in." She opened the door and came inside.

"Why are you here?" he asked. He was sitting at his desk, a report with two lines on it in front of him. Frowning, Scorpius pushed the parchment and quill away.

"Hello to you too," Rose said wryly, with no real humour in her voice as she took the seat opposite him, with his desk between them.

"No, I mean, why are you at work? You're injured and gr—"

"I'm not injured," Rose interrupted. "And I am grieving. But I could ask you the exact same thing."

Scorpius was stumped there. "I — there's nothing for me to do at home."

Rose nodded, taking the doughnut box out of the bag to show him. "I brought doughnuts," she said unnecessarily.

"Why?" he asked curiously.

She shrugged. "Peace offering," she said, with a tiny smile as she tried to open it. "To say sorry."

"Sorry? For what? And why with doughnuts?"

"Doughnuts are the international law enforcement symbol of friendship," she informed him. She really was having trouble taking the wrapping off the doughnuts. "And I'm sorry for kicking up a fuss when you came to my door that day. It wasn't fair and you were only doing your job."

"I was doing it badly. I regret yelling at you. Because you didn't do it. You didn't murder Oph lie."

Rose sighed, withdrew her wand from her holster and slit the doughnut wrapper magically. With her other hand, she took a doughnut, dropped the box onto the table and pushed it towards him.

"No, thanks," said Scorpius.

"Have a doughnut, Scorpius," Rose said through a mouthful of jam.

For the first time in a while, Scorpius smiled. It was very fleeting, but there was something distinctly unladylike about Rose that he liked.

"Do you regret it?" Scorpius asked abruptly, finally taking a doughnut.

"Regret what?"

"Telling me that we can't be together. Back in sixth year. Do you regret it?"

Rose stared at him, unconsciously touching the medallion she'd always worn, especially since the untimely death of her maternal grandmother just a year ago. He still remembered that?

**December 2023**

"Why are you so miserable?" George Greengrass demanded. "Lighten up, Malfoy!"

Scorpius Malfoy rolled his eyes at his cousin and continued brooding, occasionally adding an extra detail to his completed Potions essay while George struggled with his, which he had started merely five minutes ago. Shaking his quill in frustration, George managed to upturn his inkpot just before he stabbed his parchment menacingly with his quill, leaving a tear in the ink-blotted paper.

"So... what's the problem? Love life?" he asked, pulling out his wand and attempting to mend his essay and clean up the mess.

"Nonexistent," Scorpius replied shortly. "Yours?" he enquired, trying to change the subject.

"Maira Parkinson said she'd go to Hogsmeade with me," said George, shrugging. "That's good enough... But seriously, Scorpius, what's wrong? Who died?"

"Gabriella," his cousin said finally.

"She died?"

"No, you eejit, I got dumped, OK?" Scorpius snapped. "For someone in seventh year, she said. She was seeing him behind my back."

"Oh. Don't worry, man," George reassured, silently breathing a sigh of relief that it wasn't anything more serious. "Plenty more fish in the sea and all that shit."

When Scorpius merely rolled his eyes again moodily, slumped on the table in defeat, George added, "Did you hear about the Christmas party in the Gryffindor common room tonight?"

"What about it?" he asked suspiciously.

"Why don't we go along to it? Adam said he'd come too."

"Why does he want to go?"

"Anna Robins is going to be there," said George, and Scorpius nodded knowingly. Anna was in Ravenclaw, but it was the same every year: somehow, owing to the large number of Potters and Weasleys in Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, the Fat Lady always turned a blind (or was it drunk?) eye when the Potters and Weasleys wanted to hold a party and invite people from every other house except Slytherin. The annual Christmas party was probably the most anticipated party of the year, and it was one of many. Even though James Potter was going to leave Hogwarts that year, the gatherings of the family would not.

Therefore, when the three Slytherin sixth-years crept into the Gryffindor common room, the Fat Lady guarding the entrance did not seem to know nor care that Slytherins were gatecrashing the party, which was in full swing.

The various members of the Weasley-Potter family, plus their large circles of friends, were chatting; there was plenty of food, nicked from the kitchens, no doubt; there was music playing and a few were dancing lazily. Rose was busy snogging her boyfriend, Matthew Wood. They were sharing an armchair.

Scorpius picked up a Butterbeer and took in his bearings, scowling as he watched Adam Nott approach Anna Robins and start to chat her up. But then a scuffle caught his eye and his annoyance was momentarily forgotten.

"Who the _fuck_ do you think you are, you bastard?" Rose Weasley exclaimed loudly. "Get your hands off me or I'll hex them off, d'you hear me? That's it. We're _through,_ Wood!"

Everyone's heads swivelled around to see the drama, but Rose had already stormed up the stairs towards the nearest tower, her brown hair dancing in the light, looking more golden than brown as it swung behind her in her haste to get up the stairs.

Matt seemed to be heading that way too, but Albus picked that moment to notice that Nott was at the party, and the two of them got into a loud argument, prompting both Matt and James to break up the punch-drunken fight between the two boys.

In order to avoid getting involved in their dispute, Scorpius made a beeline towards the tower that Rose had disappeared into, hurrying up the stairs, just catching sight of Rose's back again and turning the corner of the landing she had just turned to find —

— Dominique Weasley and Gabriella Zabini, in a tight embrace, kissing heatedly until Rose's gasp made them pull apart.

"You — and her?" Scorpius said in shock, looking from Dominique to Gabriella and back again. Rose wheeled around at the sound of Scorpius' voice before turning back to the matter at hand, deciding to ignore him. The two girls' appearances looked rather dishevelled and both narrowed their eyes at their unwanted audience.

"Yes, and if you tell a soul, I swear I will hex your balls together, Malfoy," Gabriella said loftily. "Anyway, it's not as if I lied. Dominique _is_ in seventh year."

_Just not a bloke,_ Scorpius thought.

"Rose, please don't tell anyone," Dominique said, looking at her cousin pleadingly. Rose rolled her eyes, her hands on her hips as though still taking in the scene before nodding reluctantly.

They simply stood there, in a very awkward silence.

"Well? Why are you two still here?" Rose demanded a few seconds later. "Get going!"

For once, Dominique heeded her cousin's words, dragging Gabriella with her down the stairs. Once they were out of earshot and sight, Rose couldn't stop herself from turning to Scorpius and grinning, momentarily forgetting just who he was.

She was more than surprised to see him smile back sheepishly. Rose couldn't help but notice what a gorgeous smile Scorpius had; it lit up his entire face, especially his grey eyes and even his blond hair, which had become a little curly in recent days, she saw.

"Well...that was a bit of a surprise, wasn't it?" Scorpius said wryly.

"Too right," Rose agreed. "But I think they suit each other, even though it's kind of weird seeing my cousin with _Gabriella Zabini._"

"Yeah, it is really weird, seeing my own ex-girlfriend with Dominique Weasley, of all people," he said quietly.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Scorpius," she said, seemingly forgetting their usual, curt, no-first-names etiquette.

"It's OK," he dismissed, shrugging. "Your love life isn't exactly peachy either, is it, Rose?"

"Excuse me? What do you know about my love life, Malfoy?" Rose's previous attitude towards Scorpius was already returning. And she was right in saying that. Scorpius was, admittedly, in most of her lessons this year, but before then, they were only in the occasional class together, and had definitely never really had a proper conversation.

"Well," Scorpius began dryly, "you kind of baited it out for all the people who came to this party to hear. I mean, it was pretty obvious that Matthew Wood is the one who owns the hands you threatened to hex off, right?"

Rose didn't bother to reply. Now he was just being downright nosy. Even if he was as handsome as she thought he was.

"So why did you threaten Wood, anyway?"

OK. It was clear that Scorpius wasn't going to stop interrogating her. She withdrew her wand from her robes and pointed it at him.

"Keep asking me questions and your hands will be hexed off," she threatened.

"Would you really?" he asked. Rose nodded. "Go on then," Scorpius challenged her. "I dare you."

Rose did nothing.

"Told you that you couldn't do it," he said gleefully.

She kept her wand trained on him but decided to answer his question, although why he was so interested was beyond her.

"He tried it on me," Rose said finally. "He put his hands where he shouldn't have — and of course, I didn't like it, so you can't _really_ blame me for threatening him—"

"—and swearing at him," Scorpius added. "So very ladylike."

"D'you speak any other languages apart from sarcasm?"

"French, Italian, Spanish, German, a bit of Russian and I'm currently learning Arabic."

Rose rolled her eyes, attempting to look unimpressed, and in that moment, before she could stop him, her wand flew out of her hand and Scorpius caught it. Rose was caught unawares; she hadn't even seen him take out his wand.

"Oi!" she said loudly. "What d'you think you're doing?"

He was examining her wand with interest. "Hmm...interesting. Rosewood and unicorn tail, fourteen inches, adept at producing hexes and curses."

"How did you—?" Rose seemed amazed.

"My dad recently bought Ollivander's, just after Ollivander died. So I know things."

"Is that so?" Again, she tried her hardest not to look stunned by his intelligence, but it clearly wasn't working.

Scorpius handed her wand back to her before looking up at what was directly above them. After stowing her wand away, Rose looked up as well, wondering what was so interesting up there.

"Mistletoe," she whispered, and she realised how close together their faces suddenly were. "You know what that is for?"

Without thinking, she answered her own question by stretching her hand to the back of his neck, tangling her fingers into his blond hair and bringing his lips onto hers. She didn't know whether it was the Dutch courage from the Firewhisky she had just drunk; all she knew was that it was Christmas, she was under mistletoe with Scorpius Malfoy, and damn it, she had to know if all boys were like Matthew.

It was only meant to last a second, but their brief kiss turned into a more heated one as an almost inaudible sigh escaped Rose's lips. He must've had lessons on kissing, Rose mused, because he certainly knew what he was doing.

Rose seemed to have forgotten all sense, but it came rushing back to her, and with all the willpower she could muster, Rose pulled away before he could coax her mouth open, realising what a big mistake the kiss was. She saw that his eyes seemed to be on fire and felt her own cheeks flush at the intensity of his gaze.

Without warning, she spun unsteadily on her heel and was about to take off in the other direction until she felt a hand on her arm, gently turning her around.

"Don't go." Those two softly spoken words alone managed to root her on the spot, and Rose looked at him questioningly, albeit slightly tipsily. In response, Scorpius placed his fingers on her eyelids, putting the lightest of pressures on them so that they were closed — so that they could not see his own charcoal-grey eyes darkening to the point that they were nearly black.

She shivered at his touch but obeyed it, keeping her eyes shut, the Firewhisky dulling her sense again.

Tortuously slowly, Scorpius' fingers moved from her elbows downwards, until they were laced into Rose's. Their noses were touching and their lips were a hair's breadth apart, and when they finally met, Rose could feel her lips almost burn from his. Her tongue seemed to have a mind of its own, entwining with his.

At last, when they heard footsteps and the voices of Adam and George, they quickly pulled apart. Without a chance to say a word to each other, they went their separate ways: Scorpius towards his friends and Rose to the girls' dormitory.

The next day, Rose was in the library, looking for a book to take out over the holidays. She jumped violently at the sound of Scorpius' voice behind her.

She realised that this was her chance. "Malfoy?" Rose said rather brusquely, appearing from nowhere. He was with Nott, Greengrass and Goyle, three Slytherins that she hated.

"Yes, Weasley?" Scorpius replied, with equal briskness.

"A word, please."

"Make it a quick one, then," he said. Following her behind the shelf, he waved his wand and muttered, "_Muffliato._"

"Malfoy, I—"

"What's that?" Scorpius interrupted, eyeing the chain on Rose's neck interestedly.

"It's a medallion," she said quickly. "But I—"

"Really? Who's the saint?" he asked, reaching out and fingering the medallion, making Rose momentarily speechless at his touch.

"Saint Rose of Lima," she said at last. "Grandparents are Catholic. But forget my medallion, Malfoy. I wanted to tell you that... what happened in Gryffindor Tower... it didn't happen."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard. It never happened."

And with that, Rose walked away, all thoughts of her book forgotten; for it was only then that Rose realised that she could never talk of this again; her father's final words to her before she boarded the Hogwarts Express more than five years ago were ringing in her ears: _"Don't get too friendly with him, Rosie. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pure-blood...*"_

_Don't get too friendly..._ Rose had got more than friendly with him. But no one needed to know that.

"So do you regret it?" Scorpius' voice jolted them both back to the present.

"I don't know," she replied. "I should be saying yes, but I don't know."

They stood in silence until Rose broke it. "Do _you_ regret it?"

He shook his head. "We could have had something. I wish you hadn't told me we couldn't... you know. And sometimes, I wish I hadn't had a one-night stand with Dominique. But if I hadn't, Oph lie wouldn't have been born and I wouldn't have loved anyone. I mean, she's dead — they're both dead. But really? I wouldn't change a thing. Everything was meant to happen. It was written in Oph lie's fate that she was going to die. And it was in my fate that I had to suffer, that I was this close," he held up a sugary forefinger and thumb, and the space between them was negligible, "to killing the bitch who murdered my little girl, and that I can't even cry for her because I've had to bottle that grief up and now I can't open it again.

"I can't cry, Rose. I can't even mourn for her. She was my daughter and I don't think I've ever loved anyone more. And someone snatched her from me. So what the fuck do I do?"

"You don't do anything," said Rose slowly. "You just wait 'til you're ready to let your grief out."

"When I was little," he said, "I'd cry over everything. I'd cry when I got a paper cut, when someone hit me at school, anything. And now... now I can't cry about anything, and it actually matters."

"We all did that. I always cried over things that didn't matter — like the time Hugo stole one of my toys. We were kids — we didn't know any better."

"But I do now! I'm an adult, and I don't feel like one at all. I should've known better. I could've protected her. If I'd collected her from nursery, if she'd been at mine that day... none of it would've happened."

"That's not true," she said fiercely. "She still would've... If I had struggled, tried to fight Gabriella, Dominique, Oph lie and Matt might have lived."

"But—" Scorpius began, wanting to protest.

"Look at me, Scorpius," she said, standing up, rummaging in her pocket and finding her wallet, where she took out Oph lie's photo. Oph lie always had been her favourite cousin, and Dominique had given Rose the photo just days before her death. Scorpius, sensing what she was going to show him, looked away. "Stop it," she said, grabbing his hand and placing the picture there before he could stop her. "Look at it. Just look."

"I can't," he replied, squeezing his eyes shut and letting go of her wallet.

"Yes, you can. You can and you will." When he refused to open his eyes, she didn't know what else to do. Before she could think about what she was going to do, Rose leaned forwards, her hands already covering his, and kissed him full on the mouth.

It was the most fleeting kiss she had ever given anyone. Rose only realised how inappropriate her actions were a second after she pulled away. Scorpius' eyes were impassive, impossible to read, as he stared at her.

"I'm sorry," she said, a desperate expression crossing her face as Scorpius' gaze dropped. "I wasn't thinking, I—" Rose stopped abruptly as she realised that he was finally doing what she had asked.

His eyes met his daughter's tiny ones. She waved at him as if to say, "Hello, Daddy", with a radiant smile on her beautiful face. Finally, it seemed that the dam inside Scorpius had broken: tears fell, slowly at first, but more quickly as his body shook with grief. Before he knew it, he was on his feet as he fell to his knees from his chair, completely forgetting about Rose watching him.

Because he couldn't accept that picture. His daughter was waving at him — but she wasn't greeting him.

He could hear her as she said, "Goodbye, Daddy."

_Goodbye..._

**Chapter End Notes:**

* Excerpt taken from the epilogue — Nineteen Years Later — of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I don't own it — JK Rowling does.

So that's it! The inspiration for this story came from an episode in the Mentalist, season 2 episode 3, Red Badge, when Teresa Lisbon was falsely accused of murdering a rapist, but she couldn't remember anything during the time of the murder, and she discovered that her psychiatrist was drugging her and making her have blackouts. And the same goes for the doughnuts idea — from the Mentalist, episode 2 of season 2 — The Scarlet Letter. Patrick Jane is just... *swoon*

As well as that, the inspiration for Gabriella's signature was from the Mentalist too — Red John's chilling MO, a smiley face in blood on the wall — as was the title of the story, "Blood and Roses". All of the Mentalist episodes' titles have something to do with blood or something red. If you haven't watched the Mentalist, go and watch it. (That should tell you that I do not in any way, shape or form, own the Mentalist or claim to own the Mentalist. I am only married to Patrick Jane and I am NOT sharing :P) Saint Rose of Lima is apparently the saint Catholics (correct me if I'm wrong here) pray to for the resolution of family quarrels. Hermione's always been Catholic in my fanon, as is Lily Evans. Well, their parents are, anyway. Finally, I don't think anyone has noticed that the plot is very, very loosely following Romeo and Juliet. Sort of. With many, many not-so-subtle differences, hehe.


End file.
